Flicker
by Wombaat
Summary: Something a little different I hope. I was really unhappy with the results of the Forest of Dean so I'm going to explore some possibilities in what I hope is an original way. Starts in a strange place but will become recognizable fairly quickly.


**This one's a little different. I don't think it's ever been done before but with over 600,000 HP fics it's altogether possible. As such we all know that it's owned by JK Rowling.**

 **Prologue**

The tall dark garbed figure poled the punt through the fog across the flat grey river. The passengers watched either the blank void that somehow passed as a sky or shied back from the grasping fingers of the damned protruding from the water. They had been on the river for what seemed to be either forever or somehow also seemed to have only been an instant when their destination appeared as if by magic. The dock appeared as a rotted jetty and then an ultra-modern cruising port, flickering between the two and then onto other iterations of a dock. The only constant was the large rotund man standing where the punt would tie up.

The boat came alongside the dock and the passengers rose to continue their journey fading from view as they alighted from the deck. The man on the dock gestured at the boatman to join him, "I am Patrick. Come with me. You've been reassigned."

Visibly shocked the boatman shipped his steering oar and approached the larger man. Patrick reached out and grasped the boatman's shoulder and suddenly they were, elsewhere. At first glance it looked like a modern office building, numerous cubicles covering a central area surrounded on all sides by glass walled offices. There was movement everywhere, way more people than the room could supposedly contain yet nobody seemed to intrude on anyone else's personal space. Patrick released his hold on his charge and led him to an office in a corner.

Closing the door, Patrick invited his charge to sit and took his own rest behind a large desk. Reaching out into the air above the desktop a file suddenly appeared. Sitting back Patrick opened the file and began to make a show of perusing the documents. After a few moments he looked up at his silent guest, "Ok. Let's begin, shall we?"

"First off let's make you a little more presentable. We do have an image to maintain after all." With that Patrick snapped his fingers and changed the appearance of the figure seated on the other side of the desk. Gone was the grey, gaunt, almost skull like look and the threadbare but heavy stained colourless robes, replaced by a rather healthy man in his mid 30's, reasonably fit and dressed in a smart button up shirt and clean jeans and boots.

"Now then your file states that your name is 'OoooooohArghBliechGramortf' but that seems like such a mouthful that we'll just call you 'Bob.' Is that ok with you Bob? Good."

"According to your records you've spent the last 583 years as a boatman on the Styx and prior to that you did a stint as a dementor for, oh wow that's quite a run, 3500 years with over 2000 applications for reassignment. Now as such we'll just fix your voice up so I don't have to sit here and listen to myself talk for the next week." Patrick snapped his fingers again and a slight glow appeared around the throat of 'Bob'.

'Cough, Hack, Snrk' Bob cleared his throat and spoke his first words since his death over 4000 years before. "Wher… Where am I?" he wheezed.

"Oh. Where are my manners my boy," Patrick jumped to his feet and rounded the desk to pull Bob up and over to the glass wall. "Welcome to the department of Family and Relationship Adjudication, Adjustment and Allocation."

Bob looked aghast. "You're fucking kidding me. 4000 years on the outs and they put me in the Smut Shack?"

"Now, now, Bob. With that attitude you may find yourself back with the dementors if you are not careful. Like I said we are the Department of Family and Relationship Adjudicatio…"

"Yeah you said that a second ago. It's the Bureau of Love." Bob interrupted the rant. "Still it's a step up I suppose. What am I going to be doing here?"

Patrick still smarting from the interruption rounded his desk to retake his seat. "According to your file you are to be assigned the role as a field agent. Apparently our personnel department believe that with your history as a soul sucking beast will make you quite effective with guiding your assignments to the desired outcome. Personally after your horrid display a moment ago I am having reservations about allowing you in my department at all."

Bob followed Patricks example and took his seat. "Ok Paddy, So what happens if I decide I don't want to work here?"

"You'll be reverted back to your previous position, however seeing as your boat has probably already been reassigned you'll more than likely have to start again at an entry level position, and the name is Patrick."

Bob sat back as a thought went through his mind. "Great. I wonder how long I'd be a friggin dementor this time?"

"Ah fuck it. Ok I'm in, what now?"

"Excellent Bob, welcome aboard. We'll just get you setup quickly and you can be on to your first assignment." Patrick reached over the desk to shake his new employee's hand."

Bob shook the limpid grip and watched as a tablet, a small cardboard box and a manilla folder appeared on the desktop, deciding to ignore Patrick wiping his hand on his pants with a slight look of distaste.

"Now then. This is your Personality and Probability Adjustment Matrix Processor." Patrick handed over the tablet. It's based on the latest iPad 3 with our own special applications included. Don't lose it. The box contains your working uniform which you are to wear while on assignment and last but not least the folder contains the details regarding your charge. Over my objections our managers have decided to assign this case to you. It should be relatively simple however it is one that is extremely important to get correct. In a word. 'Don't fuck this up!' You are assigned cubicle 1249375b. Now get out."

Patrick turned to dismissively to the window behind the desk and prodeeded to ignore his new worker still gathering his equipment from the desk.

"Umm. How do I use this thing?" Bob asked.

The only response was a lazy wave of Patricks hand and Bob suddenly found himself standing outside the now locked office door.

Shrugging the new agent turned towards the cubicle farm to find his assigned desk. Looking for an identifying number on the identical desks he groaned when he spotted the ID plate, 202f. He turned to look down the office at the square 9x9 boxes stretching off into the distance. "God I hate expansion charms, Fucking magic sucks."

Two days later Bob finally reached row 1249375 and collapsed into his chair. "Thank god that's over," He muttered. "Now how to I use this thing."

Bob looked over the tablet from where he'd thrown it together with the box and folder on his desk.

A big red 'Press here' button was on the screen. Bob dutifully proceeded to do exacly that. The black screen faded out and a range of small pictures appeared.

Map

Time

Introduction

Personality and Probability Processor

Camera

Settings

Figuring it was a good place to start Bob hit the Introduction button.

A presentation started that over the next 5 and a half hours proceeded to explain the ins and outs of the department and the processor and it's abilities in minute detail. Resulting in Bob zoning out and falling asleep, grumbling about forming a union, about 10 minutes in after finding out that the only coffee machine in the office was all the way back in row 2.

The sudden silence as the tablet ceased it's mind numbing drone shook Bob awake. Briefly considering if he should restart the introduction and try to learn what to do before deciding to just 'wing' it, Bob dug into the box for his uniform

"YOU'VE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! I'M A FUCKING CUPID!" echoed across the stacks. Back in his glass walled office Patrick chortled into his non-fat low-carb soy latte with honey.

A day and a half later an angry Bob was pounding on Patricks door. "Open up you pompous prick, I am not dressing up in a fucking toga, halo and pansy ass little fucking wings!"

"Open the fuck up damn you." Bob continued to smack the surprisingly solid door.

Mid rant the door suddenly sprang open nearly dumping the angry agent on his face.

"Bob, Bob, Bob," Patrick stood in the doorway. "This type of behaviour is really unbecoming. I must ask that you please cease and desist and begin your assignment."

"Now you listen here you little turdblossom, I'm now doing sweet fuck all until you change this fucking costume bullshit you landed me with!"

"Bob. Stop this foolishness. You have your assignment, You have your uniform, You will carry it out as assigned and you will do it now."

"FUCK YOU! SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!" Bob was on a roll now. He'd put up with being the scum that was wiped off so people could stand in a better quality of scum for over 4000 years and he wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

Patrick reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and wiped the spittle from his face. When he pulled the hankie from his face there was a feeling of foreboding permeating the corridor. Bob's complaints twittered off to silence as the atmosphere began to make itself felt. Patrick looked at the now nervous cupid with diamond hard eyes. Gone was the simpering lackspittle appearance that he'd given off previously, replaced by what could only be termed a predator.

"OoooooohArghBliechGramortf. You will proceed back to you cubicle where you will begin your assigned task forthwith. You signed a binding contract with the company when you joined us 4083 years ago and you will uphold the terms of said contract or you will suffer the penalties as stated in such. Do you understand?"

Bob nodded his head so fast it had a very read possibility of becoming detached.

Patrick reached out and pulled Bob close by his forelock. "I'm glad we had this little chat. Now get out of my sight."

The supervisor pushed the new cupid off and returned to his office.

Bob began backing away slowly, re-evaluating his impressions of his boss. Faster and faster he moved before turning to sprint back towards his desk. He had no intentions whatsoever of voiding his contract. He knew there were worse jobs than being a dementor. He had no intentions of being a pull through for a Cerberus when they got blocked up…

Bob finally got back to his desk and opened the file. He had a brief read through, grabbed his tablet and flashed to earth.

Sitting on a fallen tree in the forest of Dean he began to read further into the details of his charges. "Let's see what we have on this Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?"

 **Well there it is. Just the prologue and setting up the main character of the story. Believe it or not it's not an AU story but will lean heavily on a scene from the movies and not the book.**

 **Like it or hate it let me know. I have the basic premise of where I want to take this done but I'm not going to bother if people don't like it.**


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